


The remembering poem

by orphan_account



Series: its easier to bleed than to cry [2]
Category: Original Work, Poetry - Fandom, original poem - Fandom
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Dysfunctional Relationships, Ex, F/M, Poems, Poetry, Rape, Slam Poetry, Toxic Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships, personal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 20:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13038939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I had an abusive ex boyfriend when I was 14 who took my virginity. We broke up the week after I turned 15. He is not only my abuser but also the man I can’t get out of my head. I still have nightmares, so much I’m on ptsd meds for them. I just needed to let it out





	The remembering poem

**Author's Note:**

> Because the nightmares won’t start

I remember the day you started talking to me like it was just yesterday. April 4, 2016.  
The conversation started out with us wanting to beat up the same person. He was a huge jerk who some days I still find myself close to strangling. Then after, we started to talk. Really talk. Well, you did. I fed you the same sob story lines I gave to every other boy who tried to flirt with me, trying to find something to make you think I was some horrible awful person so you'd leave me alone. But you pushed all of that aside.

I remember the first day we hung out together. I wore black pants, a black see-through shirt with a white heart on the back, my favorite push up bra and lucky pair of panties (the ones with the unicorns on them) My long hair was in its usual, natural curls, I smelled like my moonlight path perfume because I tried to cover up the stench of smoke from my dads house. You picked me up at my dads house and took me drifting out in the country. I remember because I thought drifting had something to do with water and would ruin my makeup. 

I remember the first time I touched you. I was scared and inexperienced and honestly? Too afraid to look at it. I remember going home that night, running over to the boy who I grew up with's house to tell him all about it. He laughed and asked if I wanted to spend the night like I do every weekend. But I knew he was concerned. He knew what was gonna happen.

I remember the day you asked me out. May 31, 2016. We had just finished playing in the rain with our mutual friend Meagan, my hair covered in dirt and rain water. After rinsing my hair and changing into my pink tank top (a shirt that is a fan of many of my suitors) and batman pajamas. I fell asleep on your chest and when you woke me up to go home, you asked me out, hoping I didn't forget the next day. I was so excited. 

I remember when you gave me that heart necklace that I wore until it rusted. Then the yin yang necklace you got me when I brought you (and paid for your ticket) to Holiday World with my sister and nieces and nephew. Whenever we were holding hands with the youngest, Ezmeralda, you said she looked like our daughter. I still regret that day.

I remember the day we hung out with my best friend Emily, we went to the park, then got high, because I liked numbing myself. Emily brought up a boy I used to have a crush on and you freaked out, refusing to talk to me. You were so mad at me for liking someone other than you before I even met you. That was the first sign.

The second sign was the fact that we had to have sex every time we saw each other. It was the only thing we both enjoyed, because you liked getting drunk until the point of vomit and I liked snorting pills until I passed out. I wish I didn't give myself up as a sex toy to you. Because that's all I was to you. That's the only reason you stayed with me.

The third was the Anger. Oh god the anger. I didn't realize that boyfriends aren't supposed to scare you. Aren't supposed to make you nervous or self conscious or embarrassed. I remember you pushing me once. Then twice. I remember you grabbing the back of my head or gripping the sides of my jaw to make me turn and look at you because you got so angry when I would look away. I remember you screaming at me, you said every time I opened my mouth I pissed you off more. You said I was annoying, I was a bitch, I was a whore. That I made you miserable. I remember anytime I would talk in a quiet voice because I was scared, you'd say I was whiny. I should've left. 

The fourth was the night you did something awful. The night where I said no to the thing you wanted to try. I said no. I said stop. You kept going. I said I couldn't breathe, I said it hurt. You kept going. I said I didn't wanna do it, you didn't care. Remember how you only stopped when I started to sob? When I pressed my face in your pillow and sobbed uncontrollably because I was so sore in such a vulnerable place. 

I should've left, I should've told my mom, I should've told my friends. Did you know this was the first time I've ever told anyone? Yeah I know, in a Fucking poem. 

I remember the day you wanted to go on a break. You said you wanted a break, and then convinced me to have sex with you. The next day I felt numb and dead. You wouldn't touch me or hug me or kiss me. 

Then the night you broke up with me the first time (it lasted for 2 hours) you convinced me to have sex with you. 

Then the second time you broke up with me (lasted 4 hours) you convinced me to have sex with you. Then after deciding that nevermind, you wanna be with me anyway, you convinced me to have sex with you. Again.

Then everything was okay for a while. No yelling, no fighting. It was a few days after my birthday, December 9, 2016. My parents were taking me out for a belated birthday present and you told me we had to talk when I got home. I asked if I was in trouble or if it was bad. You said i had nothing to worry about. Liar. I remember feeling scared and worried but also excited because I got to see you. 

You sat me down on my dads porch and told me you're leaving me. I kicked and punched the railing. I was livid. How could you have done this to me?

But it's okay. I've learned now that I shouldn't have trusted you. You're exactly like my father, bless his heart. You only find solace in the bottom of the bottle. You only feel good when you can't feel anything. You know the difference between you and dad is though? He never abandoned me. He never hurt me. He never laid a hand on me. 

This poem doesn't cover all 7 months of you lying to me. It doesn't mention all the other things you did but I figured this did some justice.


End file.
